


Give Me Words

by stardropdream



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Keith (Voltron), Established Relationship, First Time, Fluff and Smut, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 07, Sexual Content, Top Shiro (Voltron)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-16
Updated: 2018-11-16
Packaged: 2019-08-24 08:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16636148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: Keithisnervous, much as he’d hate to admit it— which is why he shoves Shiro up against the door once it whooshes shut. He leans up and kisses Shiro.They’d gotten dinner, one of the few dates they’ve managed to scrounge up since getting together, but afterwards, Keith had looked up at Shiro through his lashes and asked, quietly,Want to go back to your place?Shiro and Keith's first time together.





	Give Me Words

**Author's Note:**

  * For [valkyriepilot](https://archiveofourown.org/users/valkyriepilot/gifts).



> Fic request for [Jill](https://twitter.com/EphemeraBlossom), who asked for Shiro and Keith's first time together, with Keith nervous about how it'll go and Shiro reassuring him. 
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Keith _is_ nervous, much as he’d hate to admit it— which is why he shoves Shiro up against the door once it whooshes shut. He leans up and kisses Shiro. 

Shiro only makes a pleased sound and cups his hips, kissing him long and slow. He meets Keith’s energy with that unyielding patience, as always. It’s just as well— maybe if Keith focuses, too, he’ll stop shaking so much. 

He has only himself to blame. They’d gotten dinner, one of the few dates they’ve managed to scrounge up since getting together, but afterwards, Keith had looked up at Shiro through his lashes and asked, quietly, _Want to go back to your place?_

He hadn’t practiced asking it in the mirror, but he’d spent the better part of their meal considering how he’d pose the question. But, of course, he also knows that, deep down, Shiro would have accepted any sort of request coming from Keith. He could have simply tugged on his belt with a heated _We’re going to fuck now_ and Shiro would have followed him anywhere. Keith _knows this_ (Shiro’s made that more than clear in the way he kisses him sometimes, outside their quarters after a long day, Shiro’s hands cupping Keith’s face like he’s precious), but that doesn’t mean Keith doesn’t want to do it right, or at least not totally fuck it up. 

Which is why he makes a soft sound when Shiro pulls back with an indulgent smile, touching his cheek, because of course, despite it all, Keith is obvious to Shiro. 

“We can take it slow,” Shiro tells him. “No rush.”

It’s sweet and kind and patient, because Shiro is all those things, but Keith still manages a small groan and surges up to catch Shiro’s mouth in a kiss, biting at his lower lip and then pressing his body up against Shiro’s. 

“Come on,” Keith says once he pulls back, and yanks on Shiro’s uniform to guide him along. He walks Shiro backward towards his bed, and pushes him down onto it. He’s forceful, but there’s a playfulness to it, or at least Shiro laughs breathlessly up at him as Keith crawls up onto the bed after him.

“Wow, Keith,” Shiro says, and he sighs out as Keith cages him in with his arms and legs. He hovers over him, hair slipping into his face as he looks down at Shiro. Shiro smiles up at him, lifting his hands to brush at his hair, to cup his face. His prosthetic hand is massive against his cheek. Keith closes his eyes and leans into the touch. 

“Shiro,” Keith murmurs, for lack of anything else to say. Not that he doesn’t love to say Shiro’s name, the way Shiro’s name sounds in his mouth.

“Hey,” Shiro answers, leaning up to press a softer kiss to Keith’s lips. Keith nearly chases after him when he pulls back, but Shiro shifts to nose at his jaw. “You sure?”

“It’s you,” Keith tells him, bold, “I’ve never been surer of anything in my life.” 

Shiro gives him a helpless little smile. He says again, much more breathlessly this time: “Wow, Keith.” 

“I just,” Keith begins and halts, feeling embarrassed to admit as much. He feels his face turn red. “I’ve never— well, you know I’ve never. So. You know. I don’t want it to suck for you.” 

Shiro looks up at him and then his expression softens. He curls his arms around Keith and flips them so that they’re lying side by side on his bed. Keith makes a soft, ridiculous _oof_ sound as he settles, his hand touching Shiro’s chest, thumb circling the button of his uniform’s jacket. 

“I’m hardly a sex god here, Keith,” Shiro says.

Keith snorts, although something hot zips through his entire body. “Please. Have you ever actually looked at yourself? You’re a walking wet dream.” 

“Charming,” Shiro shoots back, his cheeks pink. “I’ll settle for being _your_ walking wet dream, though.”

“Trust me. You are,” Keith answers, and ducks his head as he feels his entire face swarm with a blush. Shiro chuckles and presses a gentle kiss to the crown of his head. 

“But I mean it, Keith,” Shiro says, gently, as he noses into his hair. “We can go any way you want. We don’t even have to do anything tonight if you—” 

“No,” Keith says and sits up, and locks eyes with Shiro as he aggressively yanks his own uniform jacket off and makes a big show of tossing it over his shoulder. “Shiro, stop being a gentleman. I want you. Come here.”

Shiro blinks at him, eyes wide, and then he’s laughing. He lets Keith manhandle him up into a sitting position and his chuckles trail off into pleased sighs as Keith dives in to kiss him again. Lack of experience aside, Keith likes to think he’s gotten pretty good at kissing Shiro over the last couple of weeks. 

Shiro’s hands are gentle as he starts to undress him, tugging Keith’s shirt off over his head. 

“You should suck me off,” Keith commands as Shiro folds his shirt up. He figures the bolder he is, the less likely he’ll be to wimp out. Keith’s never been short on confidence and swagger, even when misplaced. 

Shiro laughs. “Yes, _sir!_ ” 

He looks pleased with himself— at both the joke, and his current position between Keith’s spread thighs as he wriggles his way down the bed, hands hooking around the waistband of his pants and tugging. Keith lifts his hips up to help get them off until he’s naked on the bed, back pressed up against the wall. 

He feels shy, suddenly, and fights the urge to cover himself as Shiro very carefully folds up his pants and sets them aside— because of course he does, the ridiculous man— and then turns back towards Keith with his own sweet, shy smile. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Shiro tells him.

“Don’t try to embarrass me,” Keith answers, blushing. “It won’t work.” 

“I’m not,” Shiro protests around a laugh, his eyes warm as they sweep over Keith’s body. Keith feels exposed, vulnerable in a way he isn’t used to. It’s Shiro, and he trusts him, but this is different. He shivers. 

“I— wait,” Keith says. Shiro freezes immediately. Keith licks his lips and jerks his chin up towards Shiro. “You too. It’s not fair you get to ogle me without returning the favor.” 

“I’m not _ogling_ you!” Shiro laughs. 

Keith doesn’t answer, watching Shiro expectantly. 

Shiro’s laughs turns a little nervous, and his eyes skitter away as he tugs at the hem of his shirt and then pulls it up over his head. His smile is shy. He folds his shirt up, too, carefully, purposefully not lifting his eyes to meet Keith’s. 

Keith realizes what Shiro isn’t saying and his heart lodges up into his throat. He watches him for exactly half a second before he’s sitting up and crawling to him, hands lifting to touch his shoulders, one hand sliding down along the slope of a scar, crossed deep over his heart. 

“Shiro,” he says, and waits until Shiro looks up at him. “You’re so hot.” 

“Keith,” Shiro laughs, a protest he doesn’t voice. 

Keith shakes his head, and reaches out to help Shiro with his belt. “I still can’t believe that you’re mine, sometimes. I’ve wanted you for so long.” 

Shiro smiles at him, tentative and sweet. “You’ve got me.”

“I know,” Keith answers, and he does know. Never doubts it. He touches Shiro’s chest, traces his fingertips along the scars there. _You’re the most beautiful man in the entire universe,_ he wants to say, but feels too embarrassed to admit to something so sappy. He settles for: “I could look at you forever.” 

He doesn’t let Shiro answer him with something equally as embarrassing, instead pushing Shiro back enough to yank his pants and underwear off in one fell swoop. Shiro goes breathless and wriggles his hips to help him. 

When they’re both naked, Keith can’t help but stare. Really stare. He doesn’t know where to let his eyes land, wanting to drink everything in. 

Shiro lets him look and then moves towards him, pushing him back against the pillows and settling between his legs, eyes dragging down over him. “I seem to recall someone wanting my mouth on him.” 

“Only if you want,” Keith demurs, and then grins. “I bet you’re good at it.”

Shiro returns the grin, blushing. “I like to think so.” 

And then he shifts down, lying out over the blanket and tucking Keith’s legs over his shoulders. He leans in to press a kiss first to his inner thigh, then the crease of thigh to hip, and then the spot just above Keith’s cock. Keith groans, frustrated and anticipated at once. 

Keith really isn’t prepared for the moment Shiro does put his mouth on him— Shiro leans forward, pressing a small kiss to the tip of Keith’s cock, and then curls his hand around him to stroke once before taking him into his mouth. It’s quick and gentle, but utterly devastating. Keith’s breath whooshes out of him. It’s almost embarrassing how immediate his reaction is— he’s already hard, but his hips shudder a little and he bites his lip against an embarrassing sound. 

Shiro must know it, too, because he looks up at Keith with a small smile as he swirls his tongue around the head of his cock, his lips hinting at a smile even when stretched over Keith’s cock. He squeezes his hand at the base and holds him steady as he bobs his head, tongue sliding slowly over the length of his cock, tracing along the underside, curling around the flared head. 

Keith can’t hold back the groan when Shiro pulls off just to pillow his lips over his cockhead, tongue lapping along his skin, his thumb pressing to the underside of Keith’s cock and stroking absently as he moves. 

“Shiro,” Keith gasps, and Shiro hums in response, watching Keith closely as he licks his way down, licking and suckling at his cock, shifting to lap at his balls, and then working his way back up again. By the end of it, Keith is trembling. 

Keith would be embarrassed by how close he already is from this if it didn’t also feel so damn good. His hands fall on Shiro’s head, one fisting hard in his bangs and holding them back from his face so he can get a good look at Shiro’s mouth curled around him, his pretty eyes looking up at him. Shiro just looks even more pleased once Keith’s touching him, swallowing down around him and sliding his mouth over the length of his cock. 

When Shiro’s tongue curls around him again, coaxing him deeper into his mouth, Keith gives a feeble thrust forward that pulls a deep moan from Shiro’s throat. The hand cupping Keith’s hip tugs gently, urging him forward, and soon Keith’s rocking up into Shiro’s mouth, who bobs his head down to meet his movements. It’s amazing, Keith thinks, watching his cock slide into Shiro’s mouth, wet and welcoming, his tongue gentle against him, his hand squeezing his cock and cupping his balls, pressing closer to him. Keith’s hips jerk up and Shiro lets out a pleased little whine that nearly topples Keith over the edge. 

“Can I— Shiro, is—” he flounders around the words, his mouth parted as he breathes and stares down at Shiro, his cock nudging over Shiro’s tongue. Keith scrambles to keep his hold on Shiro’s hair. “I want to come in your mouth. Can I?” 

Shiro just whines, eyes bright as he looks up at Keith. He suckles around him, harder now, more purposeful. Keith’s hips jerk unevenly, nearly choking Shiro, and with the permission he starts to groan, thrusting harder into Shiro’s mouth. Shiro’s mouth slackens around him, opening to meet him, tongue sliding over him. 

Soon, Keith comes with a groan. He gasps and moans Shiro’s name, shuddering all over, nearly pulling too hard on Shiro’s hair if the answering grunt is any indication. He doesn’t want to look away from Shiro, his face warm and his vision whiting out for a moment as he comes in spurts, feels the curl of Shiro’s tongue as drinks him down. Shiro suckles around the head of his cock and then pulls back with one decisive lick that leaves Keith keening softly in the back of his throat. He tugs once on Shiro’s hair, trying to angle him up towards him.

“You good so far?” Shiro asks once he’s willingly manhandled into Keith’s personal space. He always asks this, no matter what they do. He asked him this after they kissed for the first time. Sometimes it drives Keith insane, the absurd lengths Shiro goes to in order to make sure Keith is comfortable. But it’s also sweet. And it makes Keith feel all melty inside to know that Shiro cares that much. 

He’s in love. He’s loved in return. It still feels unreal to him, sometimes. 

He is also, of course, sex-blissed out. Keith can’t quite answer back with words, regardless, panting a little as his thumb skirts over Shiro’s jawline, grabs him hard by the chin, and drags him in close to kiss him. He can taste himself on Shiro’s tongue and it drives him wild. 

Keith looks down and touches at a scar at Shiro’s hip, tracing its faded line gently. 

“I love you,” he says with a sigh, and knows he must look and sound ridiculous. 

Shiro grins at him, cheeks pink, and looking unspeakably pleased— as if, even now, it can still be a surprise when Keith says it. He cups Keith’s cheek and kisses him again.

“I love you, too,” he tells him, voice soft. He brushes his nose against Keith’s, lingering close as he looks at him, his voice honeyed and his eyes sweeter still. “So,” Shiro asks with a grin. “What’s the verdict? Am I any good?”

“You’re perfect,” Keith sighs, and can’t even be embarrassed about it. 

Shiro laughs, smiling. He watches his face for a long moment, just tracing his eyes over him. Keith isn’t sure what he sees, but Shiro’s expression is gentle. Almost unbearably gentle, as he always is. 

“What?” he asks. 

Shiro tilts his head. “… Did you know your eyes change color when you come?” 

“Huh?” Keith asks, intelligently. 

Shiro touches his fingers to Keith’s chest, tracing along the edge of a faint scar, then skirts upwards, touching his throat, the bottom of his chin, the swell of his bottom lip. 

“Your eyes,” Shiro says again. “They go kind of cat-like. Maybe it’s a Galra thing?” 

“Might be,” Keith answers.

He looks at Shiro, biting his lip, and nearly dragging his teeth over the pad of Shiro’s fingertip which still rests there. 

“… Is it weird?” he asks, embarrassed. 

Shiro laughs— not at him, thankfully, but something more like a soft exhale. “Of course not. Keith…” His expression softens. “You’re beautiful. Everything about you.” 

Keith snorts, mostly because he’s embarrassed and in love and feeling all wriggly from those words, knows that Shiro _means it_ which is somehow even more terrible and wonderful at once.

“Oh yeah? Everything?” he teases. He lifts his legs, mostly so his feet are pointing in the air. He makes a big show of wiggling his toes. “Even my feet? I’ve got random hair on the big toes, you know.” 

Shiro laughs. “Even those.” 

He grabs Keith’s feet and Keith squawks in surprise as Shiro presses against the arches. It tickles and Keith squirms. As soon as Shiro realizes it, though, it only gets worse and he purposefully starts tickling him. Keith squeaks out a hitching, stupid laugh and tries to get away.

“Shiro!” he shouts, and nearly elbows Shiro’s face. They’re both laughing and Shiro only _just_ manages to not fall out of the bed and take the blankets, and Keith, with him. 

He tangles his fingers in Shiro’s hair and tugs him in, kissing him again and again, firm but gentle pecks pressed to his mouth. They laugh between each one. 

“Okay,” Keith gasps out, squirming. “Stop distracting me. I gotta suck you off, too.” 

“You don’t have to do anything,” Shiro answers, laughing. “… Although, I won’t say no. If you want to.” 

“Shut up,” Keith grumbles, hooking his arms around Shiro’s neck and kissing him again. “Obviously I want to.” 

He pushes at Shiro until they readjust, Shiro pressing back against the pillows now and Keith kneeling between his legs. 

“Need me to walk you through anything?” Shiro asks.

“Please,” Keith snorts, all bravado. “How hard can sucking your dick be? Pretty sure I can handle it.” 

Shiro gives him a crooked, embarrassed smile. “You can handle anything you set your mind to, Keith.”

It’s an entirely too sappy response for something like cock-sucking, and Shiro’s expression is loving and borderline moony, and it’s making Keith feel all squirmy in turn. He gives Shiro an overly fond smile as he tucks a piece of hair behind his ear and presses a kiss to Shiro’s stomach. 

“You’re— so embarrassing,” Keith mutters. 

“You love it. And me,” Shiro says. 

“Maybe,” Keith mutters. “Yes.” 

He scoots a little, hands running over Shiro’s thick thighs. His thumb catches on a jagged scar there and he takes a moment to lay worship to Shiro like that, just touching him, reverent and slow. He watches Shiro’s eyelids flutter and then shut. Keith watches him closely, carefully, feeling a little psyched out despite his bravado. He takes a deep breath, just looking at Shiro. He stares at Shiro’s cock. It, just like the rest of him, is damn pretty to look at. Keith isn’t that surprised even his cock would be beautiful. 

He swallows, and then reaches out to touch him, stroking over him. He’s big. It’s hardly any touch at all and Keith doubts it can be that exciting, but Shiro sucks in a breath anyway, chest swelling and eyes opening again to look at him with a small, encouraging smile. 

Keith strokes him gently. He looks up at Shiro and Shiro smiles at him. Keith sighs and grabs at Shiro’s hand and pulls it towards his hair, and Shiro laughs softly before obediently curling his fingers into Keith’s hair, holding tight. 

With that, Keith takes a deep breath and turns his head, dragging his tongue from tip to base of his cock. Shiro lets out a little breath and Keith hums, curious, as he tastes Shiro. He sweeps his tongue down over him, curling along the base, and then back up again. He tries to mimic what Shiro did, taking his cockhead into his mouth and suckling. He’s overly anxious about it, though, aware of his teeth, unsure about the amount of suction, what to do with his tongue, what to do with his hand. 

Shiro groans above him. His hand tightens in his hair and that, at least, is encouraging. Keith closes his eyes and focuses, suckling and licking over him, stroking his cock. He quickly falls into a rhythm, sweeping his hand up when he slides his mouth down. He can’t take a lot of Shiro in. He takes his time. He’s patient. He teases his tongue over him, draws it out, knows Shiro will like that. It isn’t long before Shiro is panting up above him, whispering his name, tugging on his hair as Keith gives little kitten licks to the head of his cock, kissing at the slit. Shiro curses, quiet and reverent, and that alone is an indication of how much Shiro’s enjoying it— he so rarely swears. 

Shiro’s touch is gentle, but he pushes— Keith backs off immediately, looking up at Shiro as he pants. “Sorry,” he says with a grin. “Just— need to catch my breath.”

Keith’s mouth feels stretched, his jaw aching in a pleasant way. He wants to keep going, but he waits as Shiro catches his breath. He shifts up a little, intent on nuzzling against Shiro’s jaw while he waits. He shudders a little as his cock, hard again, brushes over Shiro’s thigh. Shiro gasps a little. 

“Keith, are—” Shiro cuts off as he looks down. Keith’s cock twitches just from having Shiro’s eyes on him. Oh. Shiro bites his lip, cheeks red. “Keith,” he whispers. “Are you hard again already?”

“Um,” Keith says, and nothing more. The answer is pretty obvious.

Shiro gives a shaky little smile. “Wow. That was fast.” 

“Guess I have stamina?” Keith guesses. He literally has no idea how he compares to anyone else, but it seems as good a guess as any.

“Yeah,” Shiro says, voice pitched lower than before. Then he sighs out a soft, pleased, devastated, “ _Wow._ Damn.” 

He reaches out, curling his hand around Keith’s cock, and strokes once. Keith lets out a pleased little hiss. 

“You’re gonna tire me out, baby,” Shiro tells him and he sounds like he can’t wait. Keith shivers. 

“I intend to,” Keith answers, mouth quirking up at one corner. 

“I, uh, won’t last much longer,” Shiro admits and Keith marvels at that, marvels at the idea that he could draw Shiro so quickly to the edge. 

He isn’t gaping, but he must have some sort of look in his eyes because Shiro chuckles, blushing, and touches his cheek. He leans in and kisses him, sweet. 

“If you want to do more, I’ll need to take it slow,” Shiro tells him. Then asks, “What do you want, Keith?” 

He offers the question, as he always does. Keith isn’t even embarrassed to consider or to answer, knows that Shiro offers it earnestly, that whatever answer Keith gives, he’ll accept enthusiastically. 

He leans forward and kisses Shiro’s nose. “Want you to fuck me.” 

“Yeah?” Shiro asks, eyes dark and warm, promising. 

“Yeah,” Keith says, with deep enthusiasm. Again, he pushes past his nervousness with boldness: “Bend me in half, Shiro.” 

“ _Oh,_ ” Shiro chokes out, looking delighted. He drags Keith in and kisses him, makes it sloppy, and Keith shivers, clinging to him. 

Shiro has to leave the bed for a couple minutes to hunt around the room for something they can use for lube, and by the time he returns with some hand lotion, Keith feels like he’s on fire. He pulls Shiro down and kisses him, bites at his lip, and lets out something akin to a growl. 

“Okay,” Shiro whispers, thumbing open the flip-cap of the bottle, “This’ll probably feel a little weird, but—”

Keith leans up closer just to make _sure_ that Shiro sees how hard he rolls his eyes. “Shiro. I might not have ever had sex with anyone but that doesn’t mean I haven’t— you know. Fingered myself. I know what it feels like.” 

“Oh,” Shiro whispers and then chokes out a strained little laugh. “I’m just checking.” 

Keith stares at him. His smile is tentative but definitely teasing. “You’re thinking about that, huh?” 

Shiro blushes. “Can you blame me, baby?” 

“I’ll show you,” Keith says, smiling. “Later. I look good doing it.” 

“ _Keith,_ Shiro whines. 

“Want you in me first,” Keith continues, unrelenting. He grabs Shiro’s wrist and tugs. “Can’t stop thinking about you.” 

He flops down onto the bed, grabbing a pillow and squeezing it under his hips. He stares up at Shiro expectantly, face flushed. Shiro smiles back at him, warm and indulgent, but hesitating. His hand holds the bottle, but he doesn’t move to pour the lotion out onto his fingers. 

“What is it?” Keith asks with a frown, propping himself up on his elbows to look up at him.

“Nothing’s wrong, just…” Shiro trails off with a frown, then lifts his hand. The metal fingers wriggle a little. “I’m kind of big. Might be better if I use my left hand, but it’s not as dexterous.” 

Keith lets out a helpless little giggle. 

“Oh. Yeah. You’re big,” he agrees, faintly. 

Shiro’s cheeks turn pink. “Uh, maybe I should go first. You can do me and—”

“Shiro, god,” Keith says with a laugh and grabs Shiro’s hand. He drags it towards him, marveling a little that his hand can’t even wrap around Shiro’s wrist. He presses a kiss to his palm. “Pretty sure I can handle you in any situation.”

This time, it’s Shiro who lets out a tiny little laugh, his face turning entirely pink. “ _Keith._ ” 

“Please,” Keith says, quiet, “I want you to. I can handle it, remember? I can handle anything I set my mind to. That includes your big, stupid fingers.” 

Shiro laughs, which is what Keith was aiming for. “Well, when you put it like that.” 

Keith hums, grabbing the bottle and upending it over Shiro’s palm for him, using his hand to smear his fingertips with the lotion, lubing him up. He shivers a little, already anticipating his fingers inside him, his cock. Keith makes it obscene, sliding his hands over his fingers, stroking like it’s his cock. 

It’s an exquisite feeling, when Shiro does start opening him up. His one finger _is_ huge, and Keith squirms, forces himself to relax as Shiro hooks it up inside him. They both breathe together, Shiro sucking a bruising kiss against his inner thigh as he works his finger inside of Keith, stretching him. 

Keith squirms, panting. The truth is, he likes doing this to himself, has done it enough that the burn and stretch is familiar, but it’s entirely different with Shiro. The nervousness returns and he squeezes around him with a small, biting groan. Shiro gasps, teeth dragging over the sensitive skin of his thigh. 

“Keith,” Shiro breathes, then turns his head to look up at him. “Are you okay, baby?” 

“I’m good,” Keith says, although his voice is tight. 

It’s an odd feeling to see Shiro’s hand remain pressed inside him while the rest of him lifts up towards him. His arm floats between Keith’s legs, disembodied. But Shiro presses in, kissing him, soothing. His other hand brushes through his hair and Keith gasps and tips forward to meet him, kissing him back. 

“You sure?” Shiro asks, once they part.

“Yeah,” Keith answers. He noses at Shiro’s cheek, pressing a kiss to his jaw. He wriggles his hips, rocking down to meet the thick bulk of Shiro’s finger. “It’s— different. When it’s you.”

“Mm,” Shiro whispers. 

“It’s good, though,” Keith tells him, hoping to reassure. 

They take their time with it. Shiro moves almost agonizingly slow, makes Keith all sloppy with the lotion, pouring it liberally over his hole and his fingers. By the time Shiro actually gets a second finger in him, Keith’s so thrummed up, he nearly comes just from the stretch of his rim around the metal fingers. They stroke inside him, spreading a little, stretching him. Keith keens and bites down at Shiro’s lip as he kisses him. 

“God,” Keith gasps. He rocks up and, clinging to Shiro, comes around his fingers. He shudders around a cry of Shiro’s name, which Shiro swallows quickly with a shocked, pleased little _Baby—_

When Keith comes back down, he squirms, sensitive and pleased. He lets out something that sounds suspiciously like a whimper and paws at Shiro’s shoulders, tugging him close. Shiro ducks down obediently and kisses him. 

“Keith,” Shiro says, voice nothing short of wondering. “God, babe, you’re so good.” 

Keith isn’t so sure he agrees, more embarrassed by how laughably easy it is to set him off and make him come. He whimpers when Shiro pulls back from the kiss. Shiro brushes his hand over his stomach, collecting the come there. Keith watches in a daze as Shiro studies his fingertips for a moment, and then lifts his hand to lick at Keith’s come. 

Keith groans, closing his eyes, arching his hips pathetically. He squeezes around Shiro’s fingers just to hear him gasp.

“Fuck me,” he orders, pleading. 

“You sure?” Shiro asks, once he’s done sucking his fingers into his mouth. “Keith, you might be too sensitive.” 

“ _Fuck me,_ ” Keith says, with deep feeling. He grabs around Shiro’s wrist and tugs his fingers out of him, keening quietly at the sudden loss of fullness. He wriggles his hips and tugs on Shiro’s shoulder. “Come on. I know you want to.” 

“I do,” Shiro whispers, pupils blown wide and his voice breathless. He crawls up over him, one hand hooking under his knee and lifting his leg up. “Babe,” he murmurs. “I want you so bad.” 

“You’ve got me,” Keith answers. He tugs again. “Please.” 

Shiro kisses him as he settles over him, rocking his hips forward, his cock brushing over his stomach in a way that makes Keith whine, his soft cock pressed between them and hypersensitive. 

Shiro squirms and lines himself up. Keith takes a deep breath, hooking one leg around Shiro’s hips to keep him there, as if afraid he’ll pull away from him. Keith looks up and meets Shiro’s eyes, and it’s absurd, how soft Shiro’s expression is even when it’s blown wide with desire and lust. He wants to memorize the look in his eyes forever. He lifts a shaky hand and cups Shiro’s face as Shiro rocks his hips forward, pressing inside him. 

Keith lets out a breath, hips angling up, and he forces himself to relax against the pressure there. Shiro runs his hand over his side, squeezes his hip. He murmurs nonsense words against his mouth as he kisses him, mouths his name as he slides into him, cock pressing inside him. It takes a little squirming and pausing from them both, the circling of Shiro’s hips, but eventually he slides in and sits inside Keith. 

Keith breathes out through his nose and opens his eyes, realizing belatedly that his face got all twisted up in concentration. He probably looked ugly. Shiro’s smiling at him anyway, moony and sweet and lovestruck. That helps. Keith’s thumb fans out across Shiro’s cheek. 

“Ha,” Keith whispers. “Not so bad. Damn. You’re big.” 

Shiro laughs, grinning, clearly pleased by the compliment. “You alright so far?” 

“Definitely,” Keith sighs, slowly relaxing, adjusting to Shiro’s girth. Even with his massive fingers, it’s a different feeling entirely. He curls both legs around Shiro’s hips, holding him there. He takes deep, shuddering breaths. Shiro is so thick inside him. 

“You’re really… so beautiful, sweetheart,” Shiro says, quietly. 

Keith doesn’t protest it, although the urge is there— he doesn’t mind, in the end. He doesn’t mind being beautiful for Shiro. He doesn’t mind that Shiro sees him as someone sweet. He’s the only one that matters. He’s the only one who’s ever going to matter. He lifts his arms up to drape over Shiro’s shoulders, to curl around him and hold him close. He never intends to let go. He’ll die here, with Shiro all around him, inside him. 

“Someday,” Shiro tells him, “I’ll say that and you won’t look like you want to protest.”

Keith breathes out a soft laugh. “Someday, maybe. In like forty years.” 

Shiro laughs, too. “Forty years? I’ll remember that. You better accept it then.” 

He offers it like a joke, but his boyish smile is entirely serious and earnest— and the fact that Shiro can say that at all, that he’d plan for that, that he’d expect that time to arrive, with both of them there together— it’s a lot. That Shiro, beautiful, gentle Shiro, plans to be here with him in that much time—

Keith chokes back a small sound, hates that his eyes go misty, and lurches up to kiss Shiro, just a touch desperate. 

“I promise,” Keith agrees. He noses at Shiro’s cheek and whispers, “Now move.” 

Shiro laughs, softly, and does just that— he rocks his hips forward and Keith lets out a gasp as his whole body thrums with the power of it, with the thrilling zip of pleasure that buzzes up his spine. 

They set a simple pace after that, moving against one another. The pressure builds between them, and Shiro makes pleased, keening sounds as he bites at Keith’s mouth, kisses him silent. Few words pass between them, both of them focusing on moving against each other. Keith hangs onto every sound Shiro makes— the moans, the gasps, the groans. His hands flex against Shiro’s shoulders, holding tight. 

“You better,” Keith gasps out against Shiro’s mouth, “come inside me.” 

Shiro groans, only managing a nod as he moves more frenzied against him. Keith isn’t sure how he knows, but he can tell that Shiro’s getting close. It feels almost like an out of body experience, staring up at Shiro as he moves above him, mesmerized by every move Shiro makes— the flex of his muscles, the rolling of his hips, the sight of his cock disappearing between Keith’s legs, his hands flexing on his hips. It’s everything. Keith could watch this forever. 

He squeezes around Shiro’s cock and that proves to be his downfall. His hands flex at Keith’s hips, gripping tight, and he lets out a soft groan as he thrusts hurriedly into Keith. Keith can feel when he comes, feels the twitch of his cock, the warmth of his come inside him. Keith watches Shiro’s face the entire time, every twist and twitch. Of course, even coming, the man looks beautiful. 

He waits until Shiro catches his breath before pulling him down into a kiss. Shiro lets out a pleased hum and returns the kiss, his movements sluggish and sleepy. It’s cute. Keith curls his hand around the back of Shiro’s neck, keeping him there. 

When they do part, it’s only to press their foreheads together. Keith lets out a mournful sound when Shiro slips out of him. He feels empty. He wants to be full again. He doesn’t unwrap his legs from around Shiro’s hips. 

“Shiro,” he whispers. 

He’s about to ask if he was okay, if he did alright with all this, but Shiro beats him to it with a shy, little smile: “Was that alright for your first time?” 

“Shiro,” Keith says again, just a touch disbelieving. “It’s you. It was always going to be perfect.” 

Shiro gives him a little smile, eyes soft, and his hand lifts to brush the hair away from Keith’s face. Keith closes his eyes, smiling, and leans into that touch, his cheek pressing to Shiro’s palm. He marvels at the idea that he could have been nervous at all, that he could have had any doubts at all when Shiro is right there beside him. 

They bask in that sleepy moment together, Shiro cuddling up to him, touching all over Keith. Keith shivers pleasantly, pressing light kisses over Shiro’s face. 

It only takes about five minutes for Keith to peer up at him and ask, “Want to go again?” 

“Keith,” Shiro gasps around a laugh, he glances down when Keith nudges his cock up against Shiro’s hip, hard again. “Already? _How?_ ”

Keith shrugs as he hooks a leg over Shiro’s hips and rolls them over so that he can straddle himself over Shiro’s lap, rubbing forward against Shiro’s stomach in tiny circles, his cock twitching. “Like you said. Maybe it’s a Galra thing. Stamina and all that.” 

Shiro laughs, helplessly. “Well, _I’m_ going to need maybe a few more minutes, babe.” 

“We’ve got all night,” Keith tells him, because he’s reasonable and also feels just a little bit smug that he can have this much of an impact on Shiro. He slides his hands down Shiro’s chest. “I want to ride you until you cry.” 

“ _Keith,_ ” Shiro gasps. He laughs out, breathlessly. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. Please.” 

Keith grins at him, and then ducks down to kiss him again.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject) (including the [LLF Comment Builder](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/commentbuilder)), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates responses, including:
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